The Cycle of an Alchemist
by Jessaminebell
Summary: The story of Edward's life had been is now over. Reduced to bedtime stories, it's almost as though the power of alchemy had never crossed his life. The Cycle of an Alchemist is hard to break. The tragedy that is the power of alchemy will follow him through his life, no matter how hard he runs. Perhaps this time, the tragedy threatens the very peaceful life his children have lived.
1. Chapter 1

The Cycle of an Alchemist

"Hey, Mom! We're going out, okay?" The small boy yelled into his home with no real concern for being

quiet. He waited for a response to his request for only a moment. With too many wasted seconds, he

decided it best to turn his face towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going this late at night? Don't you know monsters are out at this time?" A

rather feminine voice stopped the child cold. He sighed slightly before running a hand through his

golden hair.

"Don't be silly, mom! Dad said you're teasing us with that monster stuff. Henry and I are just going to

the pond for a bit. It won't take too long." Hopefully the woman would just leave him alone. She really

was too overprotective.

The steps leading towards the boy's position in the hallway spoke a different story. The face of the

mother he was having a shouting match with finally revealed itself.

Sparkling blue eyes stared to her young son with a certain suspicion. She always gave him that, "I

know you're starting trouble" look, though he couldn't really blame her. He really always was starting

trouble, but it was usually against his little sister.

Long golden hair was held to a ponytail far above her head while bangs fell freely down the sides of her

face. She spent so long every morning brushing her head that her children thought it might come off

one day. It was for a good cause, though. In all his life, the boy had never seen more beautiful hair

than his mother's.

She wore a rather cool dress today that went down to only her ankles. The reflective color of white and

the sleeveless image told almost anyone looking at her that she was not one to enjoy the heat.

The woman set the frying pan in her hand over her shoulder as she gave the stink eye to her son.

"Now Hughey, do you really expect me to believe that? You're just Going to push your sister in like you

did last week. Why does she keep following you if all you do is be mean to her?" Winry Elric shook her

head slowly.

"When your father comes home, I need him to have a chat with you."

Hughey let a frown work it's way to his mouth.

"When is dad coming home? It's been nearly a week." To be honest, the boy was starting to get bored.

His father was usually the one whom he played with. His baby sister was only good to make fun of, and

there weren't many children around that he enjoyed being with.

Winry seemed to perk up at the question. She smiled softly.

"Soon, Hughey. He's meeting with Uncle Mustang about some military business. I'm surprised it's taken

as long as it has. Maybe he'll come home with something for you if you're good." She giggled before

turning back towards the kitchen. She gave a single glance back towards her son.

"Now don't go and antagonize Henrietta anymore. If I hear you pushed her into the pond again, there's

going to be trouble, mister."

She always called him that when he was in trouble. It was never, "Hughes Van Elric", but "Mister"

Perhaps it was because those names held so much respect she could never speak of them in anger.

Hughes had heard the stories of his father's old military friend and grandfather to which he had been

given his names. They were both so amazing that the very thought of Hughes having their names sent

a rush of anxiousness through his body.

Though, sometimes, hearing those names only sent a shiver of disappointment his way. What if he

could never measure up to the two men who had died? Was more expected from him because of his

names? There wasn't anything he could do now but dream and read to his heart's content. Maybe one

day his succession of those two would be possible, but for the time being, he was as normal as they

came.

Hughes took off through the open door behind him. His steps on the wooden patio stopped only for a

moment to be replaced with soundless dirt. He rushed past his younger sister much to her displeasure.

Her distant shouts were ignored as the boy focused on the scenery rushing past him.

The distant sun had been replaced with a slice of moon smaller than Hughes' hung in the

distant horizon and the direction to which the boy was running. His huffs of exhaustion pushed a

burning sensation to his throat, yet he pressed himself harder. The dark rushing of the wind through

the grain stalks around him waved through his hair with a simple brush. He ignored the gentle feeling of

his blonde hair being moved to instead focus on the distance.

The stars rising with the moon ushered him closer, yet he could never really get any closer, no matter

how he tried. Every night he would push himself to run closer to those lights in the sky. Maybe one day

he would actually reach them.

Hughes slowed his running down to a jog and finally to a pause. He stared forward at the darkness

until another smaller individual stopped at his side. He took a big breath before turning towards the

little girl.

His younger sister wasn't older than ten, but her long hair rivaled that of his mother's. She copied the

woman's hairstyle of a simple high ponytail, but she could not truly be called a copycat when the color

of her eyes was brought to light. Henrietta had received their father's honey-colored pupils-a fact that

burned Hughes to the core. Of course his little girl had gotten his eyes and not his son. What was so

good about having the blue eyes Hughes possessed? He was sick and tired of being called his mother's

"Little angel"

"What are we doing, Hughey?" Henrietta caught her breath as a smile faced her older brother.

As always, she looked up to him with no malice in her bright eyes. Perhaps that was the reason Hughey

decided to pick on her so often. While she was quick to tears, she was also quick to forgiveness. He

could do any mean thing he wanted without worry she would be mad for very long.

Finally catching his breath, Hughey strolled forward ahead of her.

"I wanted to show you something, Henry." He knew that was a nickname she disliked, but even so, he

never found himself calling her anything else.

The small girl wrinkled her nose at her brother's mistake, yet she followed him with no complaint.

Henrietta only questioned him further.

"What is it? It isn't the pond monster again, is it? You better not throw me in the pond again. You know

I can't swim."

It wasn't a very deep pond, but it most definitely held the ability to drown such a small girl. Perhaps she

had inherited her small size from her father.

Hughes shook his head as a smile appeared to his lips.

"No, it's nothing like that." He laughed, "That was funny, though. You cried all the way to home to mom.

I can't believe you fell for it."

Henrietta puffed her cheeks slightly at his comment.

"Hughey-"

"Here it is." The girl was cut off from any protests she could start by her obviously excited brother. She

rushed to his side to grip his hand. The darkness that surrounded the area they were in seemed to

close in on the both of them. She could actually believe a monster lived in this part of the forest.

Hughes ignored the scaredness of his sister in order to showcase his pride. He smirked rather largely

as they cleared a bush.

"Where are we?" Henrietta drew closer towards her only companion in the oncoming forest. If this was

just another one of his stupid ways to scare her, he was doing a good job.

Hughes shook his head.

"It's not where we are, Henry. It's what's here." He dropped her hand as he knelt to the ground.

Hughes clutched the piece of chalk he held in his pocket tightly. He had spent many days deciding the

best time to take it from the chalkboard. If he lost it now, it would only embarrass him to steal another.

Henrietta could only watch her brother's odd writing with curiosity. She knew how to read of course, but

the weird circle and symbols he dug into the ground were unlike anything she had seen before. Only

when he added a few sticks to the center of the circle did she realize just what her brother was doing.

"H-Hughey!" Her gasp was ignored by a sudden flash of light from the center of the circle her brother

held to. It illuminated his features for just a moment before the illumination disappeared.

Hughey turned back to his mystified sister with his prize in hand.

Turned from the twigs he had placed in the center of the circle was an item the brother had often made

by hand. It was a long process that took up most of the day, but with the power he had made, the task

was done in mere seconds.

Sitting in the boy's hands was a small twig crown big enough to fit over his sister's head. Others made

previously had flowers woven throughout the piece, but Hughie had obviously been lacking in that

material so late in the summer. Even with the crude work, a proud smile sat upon the brother's face.

"M-Mom said we couldn't look at dad's books! Hughie, that's-"

His simple nod cut her off. His blue eyes had never shone so brightly than in the moment he showed his

sister his accomplishment.

"The power of equivalent exchange; the magical power dad had. I can do it, Henrietta! I can do

alchemy!"


	2. Chapter 2

"The power of equivalent exchange; the magical power dad had. I can do it, Henrietta! I can do

alchemy!" Hughey's large smile was in dark contrast to his little sister's look of horror.

The boy stood from his knelt position on the ground to only extend the object he had crafted so

perfectly.

Henrietta recoiled in slight fear as though it were poisonous.

"You've been reading dad's books again?" She spoke with just a whisper, "Mom said it was dangerous,

Hughey! You can't do it!"

Hughey's smile dropped as he realized his small accomplishment would go unappreciated with his

sister. The brother let the twig crown drop to the ground before his steps trampled it. The snap of the

frail wood signaled his annoyance.

"Who knew you would be such a wimp, Henry. Can't you at least try to think for yourself? Mom's

wrong."

The very thought of her brother's abandoning steps out of the brush sent tears welling to Henrietta's

eyes.

"Wait, Hughey!" She cried out to stop him.

Hughes glared back at his sister with baby blue bullets.

"And you're not telling mom. Or dad. If you do, maybe I won't save you from the pond again." With his

threat out, the boy took off down the nearby dirt path that ran up to his home. The poorly lit road didn't

bother him, but Henrietta could never walk up it by herself. Hughey's mother always made sure he was

there to help his little sister, but at this point, he didn't really care. She could take the bridge with a

single lamp post if she was so scared of the dark. Sure, it was out of the way how it circled to their

house around the back, and it even wasn't well supported by the beams, but Henry was the one to

worry about that.

Hughey slowed his steps as he came to the door. While his breathing was still ragged, and he really

should have waited to step in, a single voice propelled his silent feet to listen.

"... He's been getting into the study again. What if he's reading those books?" The voice of his worried

mother spoke to an unseen individual. Hughey didn't need to guess who this mystery person was,

because as soon as he spoke, the voice was matched to a face.

"Hughey? Don't worry about him. He knows the rules, and he's a good kid, so he won't cause any

trouble."

The famous man known for saving anyone Hughey had ever met, and the famous alchemist now turned

normal, his father, Edward Elric, had returned home.

A laugh of the man erupted from the kitchen.

"And what's the big deal if he does? It's not like a little alchemy could kill him. He could even fix your

earrings you've been complaining about. I read those books when I was younger, too." He was most

likely holding Winry, Hughes knew. Whenever his mother talked of her worries about them, his tall and

supportive father would hold her closely from behind. Sometimes he would even whisper words that

she could only hear. Hughes could never figure out those words, but whatever they were, they always

made his mother smile.

"I don't know, Ed, it's just.."

"What happened to me when I was a kid? Winry, we have good, smart kids, and we're not half bad

parents. Unlike me, Hughes has his father. I won't let anything happen, okay?"

The sentence seemed to put the woman at rest, as a slight shuffling of plates was heard.

"Okay." Winry laughed.

Hughey took a few soundless steps back towards the screen door. He slammed it to the lock as though

his presence in the house was a new one.

"I'm home, mom!" He announced for all to hear.

Hughes stepped into the kitchen to finally set his eyes upon his idolized father. He could barely hide his

excitement over the event, but he remained calm to not set off his mother's suspicion.

Oddly enough, his mother was alone peering over the stove. No father resided in the room Hughey had

expected him to be.

"Hey, honey. What's up?" Winry glanced over her shoulder with a warm smile for her returning son. She

held a steaming pot over the sink as she emptied the water from it.

Hughey narrowed his eyes slightly.

Had he been wanting his father to come back so bad that he dreamt of it?

A sudden feeling of large hands at his sides woke the boy up. He was lifted into the air and onto a body

just behind his. Before a word of warning to his mother could be issued, the smirking face of the man

who had placed him on his shoulders was seen.

Long golden hair as thick as the wheat stalks in the fields was tied back into a low ponytail with no

particular detail paid to the hairstyle. A freshly shaved face showed no stubble, just as the boy

preferred it. Honey eyes stared down with a certain warmth and closeness that could only be shared

between a son and father.

"Dad!" He had been completely off guard in anticipation to see his father. Hughey smiled brightly at his

spot on his father's shoulders. The two often played a game involving the riding of Edward. It was

always so nice to see the country in a higher position than his own height.

"What have you been up to? Any new fishing spots?" Edward laughed.

"Hughey, where is Henrietta?" Winry interrupted her husband's usual questions for one of her own. She

pointed suspicious eyes towards her son.

Hughes avoided her prying pupils to instead face the ground.

"She's.. Over Mary's." He lied quite obviously.

Winry approached the two with a sour face still stuck to Hughes.

"You left her alone again, didn't you? You're her big brother, mister. You need to protect her."

Was there anything this woman did not worry about? Her thoughts were always pointed towards

others and not towards herself. Sometimes that fact really annoyed Hughes.

The boy was lifted from his father's grasp and back onto the floor. He turned to face Edward, expecting

a rather stern look as well.

No such expression lie on his father's face. It was quite the opposite, honestly. An understanding smile

was set on her lips.

"You're being mean to Henrietta again? Didn't mom tell you to stop? C'mon, let's go find her."

Never did this man try to be a parent that had forgotten he was once a child. He always knew just how

much to punish Hughes and what ways would truly mean most to the boy. Perhaps that was the

reason Hughes admired and strove to be so much like his father. If only he could show him the alchemy

he was able to do. He could be just like daddy in all respects. Except for his eyes, anyway.

"Don't take too long, you two. Dinner will get cold." Winry let the two stride out of the kitchen and into

the warm night air turned chilly by a simple breeze.

Edward made sure to close the screen door tightly so it might not whip into the wall. Winry was always

yelling at him for such things, after all. It was better to just listen to her rather than get hit by whatever

object she found most appropriate at the time.

"Man, it's nice to actually walk after that many train rides." Hughes' father stretched out his arm

muscles before descending from the wooden patio. The man took only a second to grab his child's stray

hand before walking onwards. Normally, Winry was the one to grip Hughey's hand too tightly or too

often, and he always found himself pulling away. But for some reason, when Edward held his strong

grab onto his son's hand, the boy took a bit of pleasure in it.

He could never really be too close to the man.

"How was uncle Mustang?" Hughey glanced up towards his father's now dark face. It truly had become

dark in the time since Hughey had arrived home. He wondered how Henrietta's scream had not been

heard yet.

"He's still the grouchy old man you know. Maybe your mom will let me show you around the barracks

next time I go." Edward smiled just a bit at the thought of seeing his old friend again. Really, nothing

much had changed between the two's relationship. Even if Ed was several inches taller than the man,

he would still be remembered as "Shorty." Funny how such a hated nickname could become so much

like a treasure in just a few years time.

Hughes' face lit up at those words. His smile returned as his blue eyes shone.

"Really? Is it as cool as you say it is?"

Edward nodded.

"Yeah, it is. Where did you say your sister was again?" He drifted the subject back to the current task

at hand.

Even with mention of his sister, the smile on Hughey's face didn't waver.

"Oh, she's going across the bridge around our house, I think. She's such a baby she had to go to the

only one with a light!" His slight joke did not give him a laugh from his father. Instead of any response,

the walking ceased from his father. The two stopped dead in the middle of the road as Edward looked

down to his son with wide eyes.

"W-What?" Hughey had to ask. The stare he was getting from his father was anything but pleasant.

The amount of worry and anxiety conveyed in the dark honey pupils made his skin crawl.

"The one closed off? The one not repaired fully yet, Hughey?" His voice was a small whisper compared

to the silence surrounding the both of them.

Hughey could only nod to answer the question.

The hand holding onto his was dropped in an instant as Hughey's father's feet picked up from where

they had left off. However, instead of the light pace the two were walking at, the man now held onto a

desperate run. His large steps pounded into the dirt as he strode forward.

"Dad!" Hughey yelled after him.

The man did not stop for a single moment and instead settled on an overpowering shout.

"Get your mother, Hughey! Do it now!" It was not a request.

But Hughey did not take it as such.

He found himself instead running towards his father's side, though he could never hope to catch up

with the sprint Edward was running. He instead trailed behind as the two finally came close to the

bridge in question. The sound of rushing water swept into both ears as the destination was met.

Hughey stopped next to his breathless father as both their sights stared forward to the ruin they saw.

While the side handrails were still going all the way across to the other side of the land mass, the

middle section of the bridge now held a hole that ran straight down to the rushing water below. It was

an unavoidable gap that anyone not paying attention could fall into, even with the lit lamp. The various

signs warning passerby's of the danger were simply thrown to the side of the bridge as though they

were an annoyance and not something capable of saving a life.

Edward threw himself down the side of the bridge and towards the water.

"HENRIETTA! HENRIETTA, WHERE ARE YOU!?" His harsh screams cut into the side of the brother still

standing near the entrance of the bridge. Every muscle froze in Hughey as his harsh words spoken to

his sister were remembered.

_I did this I did this I did this I did this I did this I did this..._

The words seemed to repeat endlessly in his mind as the sound of splashing water went through his

ears.

She was just a mere shape holding onto a nearby rock when Ed saw her. She didn't move an inch even

as he directed his shouts towards her. No voice was risen to answer her father.

Edward dove head first into the river his daughter was fighting against. The cold chill resonating

throughout his body was driven away by the burn he felt as he moved his arms back and forth, his legs

up and down. He fought against all forces as he closed in on his target, on his unmoving daughter.

Her body was so cold and wet. Even her hair had been pulled apart by the harsh pulls of the river. It

now hung across both her face and the rock her body was stuck onto. While her head was above the

surface, every few seconds a rush of cool water would wash over her entire being. There was no way

to tell whether or not the girl was still with him.

Edward fought back any panic as he latched an arm around Henrietta. He once again fought against the

crushing and cruel waves of water, only this time, he had another head to keep above the liquid.

The father pulled his daughter to the shore and propped her along the sweet grass and wildflowers. He

stared down, the dangerous situation only replaced with worry and grief. Her entire body was chilled

and her clothes were soaked and so heavy. It was a wonder how she had just sunk to the bottom of

the river and drifted along endlessly until someone had spotted the body.

Were her closed eyes signaling just unconsciousness? Or were they...

Edward was too crushed by the situation to speak. His mind skittered around with millions of thoughts

of just what he should do.

"Henrietta..!" The cut off cry of a woman worked it's way into Ed's heart as his sights focused slightly up

the hill.

Winry's wide blue eyes were of a horror Edward had never seen in them. It was terror and fear all

wrapped into panic of a mother at risk of losing her child.

The woman nearly stumbled down to the river as well as she dove to her daughter.

"S-She hasn't been in long, right? She just fell in, right? She's so cold. Ed, her eyes are.." The woman

placed a finger under the girl's jaw to measure and hope she could feel at least something under there.

A slight light worked it's way to Winry's blurry eyes.

"S-She's got a pulse! It's weak and I can barely feel it, but it's there. Oh, god, Ed. We need to help her!

Lift her chin up!" Winry was quick to realize the problem, though her husband was less quick on the

ball.

Edward simply stared down to the cold and empty face of his dying daughter.

"Edward!" Winry nearly let another scream come to her mouth.

"Ed, we need to save her! Please!"

His quick nod seemed to snap the man back into the situation at hand. He complied with the woman

and lifted the child's head to a slight tilt.

Winry gently placed her hand under her daughter's breastbone and began to press into her chest. The

quick and hard jabs went on for far too long than Edward could remember. Every time, Henrietta's head

would jolt forward in his hands as though she would come to life, but that was not the case, as gusts of

water would also stream from her mouth to crush his hopes.

Winry took her hands from the child's chest as she leaned her ear down towards Henry's mouth.

The tears that had welled up in the woman's eyes now streamed down the side of her face to drop

onto her daughter's clothes.

"Oh, god, she's breathing, Ed. She's breathing.." Winry lost all strength as her head collapsed into her

own arms. Her body jolted every few seconds as small sobs and whimpers.

Edward Elric perhaps felt relief wash over his body in those words. The man collapsed backwards into

the sweet grass and flowers growing wildly along the shore. He closed his eyes in exhaustion as the

words reassured him for what felt like hours.

_She's breathing, Ed.. She's breathing.._


	3. Chapter 3

"Hughey?" This very worried mother placed a light hand to her son's door. As with the rest of the days

in the week, no stirring was heard, nor did a voice answer her's.

Winry's disappointment deepened as she drew backwards. She withdrew towards the room her

husband resided in. Perhaps he would have an idea on how to coax their guilty son from his room.

"Ed-"

"I'm not talking about it." His tired honey eyes traced over towards her.

"In case you were going to ask." He felt the need to add.

It had been only two days past the event in which Henrietta's life had been at risk. There was already

an identifiable lack of noise in the Elric home, especially from the son. His room had become his prison

where he locked himself into. Not a sound was heard from Hughes, and no matter the amount of talking

Winry tried, she could not get her son out of his room. Neither could she get her husband to speak with

the child.

Hughey blamed himself, and Winry was starting believe his father did too.

The mother sighed slightly at Ed's blunt words. She took a place next to him on the couch to perhaps

gain a better, more equal position to talk from.

"He's not going to come out on his own, you know. He already blames himself, and you not talking to

him about it is only making him believe it more. Ed.." Winry trailed off as her husband closed his eyes.

"I... Don't want to blame him, but I do. We've always told him, "Just look out for your sister" Why

couldn't he at least listen to that?" Edward leaned forward to the edge of the couch. He held his head

as it tilted towards the ground in silent worry.

While Henrietta had escaped the immediate danger of drowning, the cold water of the rapids had

chilled the girl to the very bone. She had not waken from the state of unconsciousness she had been in,

yet her heart still pumped the life-giving red throughout her body. Doctors had been by to determine

just the illness, but it was some sort of problem Ed could not remember. All he knew was that the

doctors could not be sure just when she would wake up. Would she ever wake up? How many more

days did her father need to wait and see if she would live as she had?

The girl now slept in her dark and lifeless room that had been painted pink many years ago. Oddly

enough, whenever Edward stepped in that room and saw the color, he could only feel a sense of grief.

Perhaps he had given up before the ordeal had even started.

The boy sitting against his room door as he always did could hear every disappointed word spoken by

his idolized father. Perhaps the very thought of Edward not trusting his son should have crushed

Hughey, but for some reason, no feeling was present. A cold numbness had overtaken his body in the

time his sister was declared comatose. All words and feelings simply bounced off of him and into the air

as if they had never really existed.

Hughes pulled his knees towards his body as he clutched his thin appendage.

_Wow, Hughey! You're so strong, you could probably push dad's bookcase back upright!_

"Stop it." The boy replied out loud to the girl's voice in his head. The memories of a sister who admired

her older brother so much were being played so loudly he could barely hear anything else.

_Will you let me play with you next time, Hughey? Please? I'll try to keep up._

"Please, stop..!" The words could not be drowned out by anything but his fast beating heart. Hughey

stood from his position as he approached his desk. He leaned against the faded wood for any support it

could offer.

"I already feel guilty enough without you yelling in my head! Shut the hell up!" The books lining the

table were shoved to the ground by an angry and frenzied hand. They scattered all across his room

while some even hit the nearby wall.

Hughey fell to the ground as the tears finally came spilling from his blue eyes. They blurred his vision of

his surroundings as his pounding headache fogged his mind of any thoughts but the voices.

Defeated, the boy stared down to the pile of books somehow ending up opened.

Blue eyes widened as tears cleared from his eyes. Hughes dove himself towards words he could never

think to be written in a book. When his fingers finally did wrap around the text, the blurriness in his

eyes and the headache in his mind disappeared. Hughes read slowly from the circled pattern as though

the life-saving words would fly away if he didn't.

**_The peacock's feathers in bright colors, the rainbow in the sky above,_**

**_The spotted panther, the green lion, the crow and beak, blue as lead,_**

**_These shall appear before you in perfect white,_**

**_Pale white and black with false citrine, imperfect white and red,_**

**_After the perfect white follows the grey,_**

**_And after these shall appear the substance_**

The poem-like phrase was written above what he could only define as a god send. Hughes read the

words slowly and silently like a treasure.

The very thing to save Henrietta

"Human Transmutation."


	4. Chapter 4

"Hughes, honey, can you please come out? Please?" Winry now held her head to the door of the room her son had been hiding in. Her worried and left-of-sleep eyes were closed as a silent beg came from her. It had been nearly five days since he had come out, as well as ate. How would losing two of her children soothe the woman's soul?

"Hughes, please. No one is angry with you. Your father and I are worried sick that you aren't eating. Can't you at least have a bite of something? Hughes..." Winry Elric leaned herself into her son's door. Her voice became a small whisper as she closed her eyes. "Can you at least see Henrietta? She's still asleep, Hughes. You haven't been in there at all with her.." She had called him by nothing but his name in those long days. Never had Hughey's usual nickname touched her bitter lips. She blamed him. They all did. Wasn't Henrietta absolutely seething with rage, even as she slept? Hughey knew. He knew it all too well. He had been the one to cause this, and he needed to be the one to fix it.

Winry shook her head, collapsing it to her knees. She tucked her arms around her eyes as a shield to block the horribly cruel world around her.

"Your father and I... We're heading into town to find another doctor. Uncle Mustang said he might help with Henry... We're all trying to brave through this, Hughes. So could you please give me a bit of strength? Please..?"

Hughes set his head back to the wooden door he leaned against. His closed eyes breathed words he could never find to soothe his poor mother's worries. He hated hurting her like this, but he wasn't ready to speak just yet. What would he say? What could he possibly find to say? An encounter with any one of his parents would only end up in more disappointment or crying. He had had enough of that.

* * *

The sound of an empty house had never really been heard by the boy. It had always been filled with the small laughter of either him, his sister, or even a combination of the both. He never thought such a lapse in sound could hurt him so hard. It was only now that he realized no greater a torture existed in the world than the still air in which a child's playful screams should occupy.

Hughes wandered through the house, knowing he wouldn't be interrupted in anything. His parents had left the town to search for a doctor that could never really do anything, and his sister... Well, he would give anything to have his sister stop him with a voice or a bump in the desolate hell he walked in.

Even after fasting for so long, no growl came from the boy's stomach. Perhaps that too had been killed in the horrible tragedy being entirely his fault. He wandered for quite some time, feet barely making a sound across the wooden planks of the kitchen. What finally gave him the courage to approach the pink-painted bedroom of his sister, never to this day shall he know.

His cold fingers found themselves wrapping to an even colder brass knob. His thick breaths rocked the house with an undeniable energy, yet it took several seconds for him to bring that strength to his hand. He turned the knob, a slight creak sounding throughout the air. How often did he hear that sound down the hall from his room? How many times had his father walked into his daughter's room, a muffled cry he thought no one could hear coming out? And how many times over had that crushed Hughes?

A slight push sent the door to his sister's room to a crack. He cringed at the motion, instantly regretting stepping out of his jail cell. This had been a bad idea. Such a bad idea. But what kept driving his energy into opening that door? What calories were spent in moving his body into the room and over his lifeless sister's bed?

Sparkling blue eyes turned dull stared down to the closed eyelids of an amber hue he had spent many years harboring a jealousy for. Strangely enough, no such emotion welled into Hughes when he stared down to the skin turning white and lips fading blue on Henry.

Instead, Hughes reached out. No emotion stained his face as his fingers pressed into Henry's neck. Not even an ounce of liquid spilled from his indifferent eyes as the loss of a pulse was felt. His finger stayed under her chin for many minutes, all without feeling even the hint of a pulse he had lost.

How long had she been gone? Had she woken up before it happened? Or had she died peacefully in her sleep? Either thought chilled this brother's body to a coldness rivaling Henrietta's.

Hughes' hand dropped back to his side as his cold blue eyes stayed glued to the empty face before him.

_It looks like she's sleeping. _

"Hey, Henry. Wake up, Henry." He spoke lowly, fists tightening in thought over his sister.

He had seen this many times before. When the dog next door was hit by a car, Hughey and Henrietta were the only ones nearby. The beast whined for minutes with sad and painful eyes before it collapsed back onto the ground.

Hughes had seen this happen to so many creatures on the earth's surface, but never did he ever think it could happen to anyone he knew. Never could anyone he cherished leave him so selfishly. Why did he have to suffer while they just looked like they were sleeping? Why did this cold empty shell of a thing have to look so much like the sister he always took for granted? They couldn't be the same thing, right? Henrietta could never leave him like this. He would turn around and she would be standing behind him, huffing and breathing hard because he ran ahead without her again.

Hughes closed his eyes as his body slowly began to rotate. He didn't open his eyelids before he was present to the door.

He was alone.


End file.
